Heart Of Gold
by Specificitydarling
Summary: Stella's HIV test results have come back... What did she and Mac learn from the experience?
1. Chapter 1

I wrote this a while ago... but haven't had a chance to put it up here. sorry :) i hope you like...

Mac heard the footsteps and anticipated the knock that came. He could guess who it was, but some days, especially recently, he just couldn't tell anymore. He glanced up innocently pretending the knocker hadn't been occupying his thoughts.

"Hey Mac." The tall brunette smiled. He could see right through it though, after 11 years they had become all but windows to each other. They knew the signs, like now; she wasn't okay. Her hair was tied up, out of her face. Something was up, because she only tied her hair up when she was having trouble dealing.

"Stella." It was a statement and a question, and enough to prompt her to continue.

She played with the paperweight on his desk, then looked at the pictures beside it, the ones she saw nearly everyday. Claire was there, of course. But it was a different picture, she noticed, smaller than the one before. Would it keep getting smaller, until it one day disappeared? She saw herself in the silver frame. Her and Mac. They had been at Sullivan's for drinks with the team. It was a recent photo, yet she couldn't remember who took it. Neither of them were looking at the camera, but at eachother. She was holding out her hand, probably wanting him to pay up for a bet she had won. She always made him pay, because he never learnt his lesson.

Mac was eyeing her carefully, determined to get more than a "Hey Mac" out of her. Just when he was about to say something, she spoke.

"I wanted to keep you in the loop. The results are back, and I'm on my lunch break, so I'm going to the clinic now."

Her eyes finally met his, and he saw they were slightly red. She had been crying earlier.

He stood up hastily, and nodded, "I'll come with you."

Stella quickly put her hand on his chest to stop him. "No, that's okay. Really, I'm a big girl." She forced a smile, but it sounded like she was trying to reassure herself more than anyone else.

He noticed how the sun beaned through his glass office and somehow formed an aura around her. She was his ass-kicking guardian angel, now he needed to be hers.

He squeezed her shoulder lightly, then reached for his coat, "I want to. I told you, I'm here for you. Anyway, even big girls have friends."

He held the door open for her. She took a moment to accept what he had said. "Thanks Mac."

His hand on her back lead her to the elevator, and she was glad it was there. It stopped her from running away. She looked around at her co-workers, her team. They worked hard to keep justice in this huge, relentless city and she wondered if she would still be Stella Bonasera if she wasn't a CSI. She felt a hand grab hers and looked up at him.

"We'll be okay", he said. She liked the way he said "we" as if they were going through this together, as if his life depended on this result as well.

What she didn't know, he thought, was that it did. They hadn't talked about what would happen if it was positive, but seeing her when she told him about it told him she wouldn't be the old Stella. He couldn't imagine doing this job without her. Hell, he couldn't imagine being himself without her.


	2. Chapter 2

Mac held the door open, as always, because he was a gentleman. She took a deep breath and walked in, doing her best not to look anxious. It was a small room; the decorators obviously tried their best to make it look 'homey', hence the couches. The few people there looked up briefly from their reading material.

They walked up to the desk where the lady behind it greeted them with a sympathetic smile. Between them his hand touched hers for a second. An offer of ressurance, a signal of support. He had no idea what Stella was going through, but it wasn't good, and that's what hurt him.

"I'm Stella Bonasera. My results - "

"Of course, just take a seat. Dr. Lewis will see you soon." The lady cut her off. He was thankful for that. Stella's voice had changed. It was less confident, less Stella. Whenever he heard it, he winced inside.

"Thanks." Mac smiled and lead Stella over to the couch. It was leather and covered in those pillows that have no specific purpose. Stella hated those, he knew.

"Sit."

Her eyes followed him as he went to the watercooler to get her a cup of water. She didn't ask, and she wondered how he knew. Stupid question, of course he knew. He's Mac Taylor, her Mac Taylor. When he came back and gave her the plastic cup, she noticed the fading tanline on his ring finger.

"I need to make a call" he said almost apologetically. She didn't understand that, but then, she didn't understand a lot of things these days.

He walked to the other corner of the room, looking over his shoulder. He felt guilty, leaving her for even a minute. As is she was a snowflake, and would melt if he wasn't there. He glanced around the room as he spoke on his cellphone. One wall was covered in posters: How To Live With HIV, What To Eat, How To Tell Your Loved Ones… He was glad that she trusted him with this, even if it wasn't straight away. Sure, she was obligated to tell him because he was her boss, but he liked to think that she told him because he was her friend. He reminded her of that when he hugged her tightly.

The other wall was full of paintings, as if to balance out the Poster Wall. Paintings of boats, and little houses with white picket fences. Nothing you could fine in Manhattan. Stella picked up a magazine without even looking at the cover. At least she wouldn't be staring at him. She tried to focus on the articles, but somehow getting a great summer wardrobe didn't rank very highly with her. She felt his his eyes as they kept coming back to her, and she liked that feeling. The feeling of him checking up on her, making sure she was still there, making sure she was still okay.

He surprised her when he came back, but she got over it and put the magazine down, relieved. He knew it was unlikey that Stella had caught the virus, she knew that too. But she didn't need to hear what the chances were. Even if he said it was one in one million, Stella would hear the one.

He sat beside her, but said nothing. Truthfully, he wasn't sure what he could say, or do to make her feel better.

"Mac, I'm glad you came", she said eventually said, and smiled.

"It's what we do. We take care of eachother."

That made her laugh, and he felt a little better.

"That sounds familiar."

It made her feel special that he remembered those words. It definitely made her feel better. She noticed he held his breath after he spoke and decided that he was worried about what he would say. She wanted to hug him for it, and tell him that him just being there was enough.


	3. Chapter 3

They had gotten looks from people, when they finished each others sentences, saved each others lives, that sort of thing. Colleagues weren't supposed to know, or care that much. She had always found it funny how different they were, like water and oil. He was methodical, logical, professional. She got way too involved, she got angry too fast. But somehow, like oil and water, they were always side-by-side, and they fit together like pieces in a puzzle.

Dr. Lewis was a woman, he realised when she came out into the waiting room holding a folder. "Stella Bonasera?"

They had been talking about food, cannelloni to be exact, or more, she had brought up the fact that he still owed her. He stood up, after her, but hesitantly. He wasn't sure whether she wanted him to come. Her eyes locked with his before she took her first step and he followed. She had asked him to stay with her. He wondered whether he would ever be able to read someone like he could read her.

The Doctor smiled and started reciting what was probably a well-rehearsed speech. But Stella wasn't really paying attention, at this point, there were only two words she would be able to register: 'positive' and 'negative'. They sat in matching, upholstered chairs opposite the desk on which lay her folder, with her results. He sat on her right, and made a quick grab for her hand when it started to shake. She tried to remember if she had ever been there for him, like he had been there for her many times. She hadn't known what to do when Claire died, so she did what she could: sit there, listen and offer him a shoulder to lean on. On the Doctor's desk she saw a photo from her wedding day, Stella realised it had been to long she had last imagined herself having one. Had she given up?

At first, the Doctor looked at him reluctantly, "If you want your…partner can wait outside."

He glanced at Stella, making it clear it was her decision.

"No, he stays. He stays." Stella said, first to the Doctor, then to him. Later on, he realised the neither of them had said anything about the Doctor's "partner" remark.

"Ok then, I have some good news." Dr. Lewis got straight to the point, "you tested negative for HIV and AIDS, you're pretty much safe now. But be careful in the future."

A weight lifted off his shoulders, she didn't have the virus, she was safe. Stella wasn't going anywhere, and everything would be okay.

Everything would be okay. He was grinning; she could tell even with her back turned. They stepped outside and before she could even turn around, his arms enveloped her in a hug. This wasn't like other hugs, it wasn't for her comfort. This hug was for him; he needed to make sure that this was real. She found she liked that. He needed her.

"Mac", was all she could really say.

"You're gonna be okay, Stella." He smiled, but she felt it was more to himself.

She squeezed his shoulder and gave him a genuine Stella Bonasera smile, "We're both gonna be okay, Mac. Don't doubt it."

It seemed good to him, and as they started walking, his hand found his way to her back again. Now she wasn't running anywhere, but the touch felt warm and nice and natural. As did most thing involving him.


	4. Chapter 4

They went back to the lab after that. He had offered to drive her home, but she said they had to solve the case they were working on because it was driving her crazy. She didn't tell him, though, that she wouldn't know what to do with herself if she went home. But she figured he knew.

"Stella."

She looked up from her computer and saw a certain ME. at her door.

"Peyton. Hi." They were friendly towards each other, had been since before she a Mac became … an item. Unfortunately, it was in Stella's nature to stand guard in case anyone holding Mac's heart were to drop it. She wouldn't let him get hurt. She couldn't let him get hurt, because it would be like hurting herself.

"How's the case going?" Peyton smiled.

"Pretty good, why do you ask?" She watched as the ME looked over the items on her walls and realised she had probably never been in her office before.

"Oh, Mac and I were supposed to have lunch, but he called and cancelled. I just assumed you had a jam." Peyton's eyes were fixed on a particular framed photo on top of her filing cabinet.

Stella raised her eyebrows, then dropped them quickly, hoping Peyton didn't notice. "Oh that! We had a lead and want to follow it."

The photo was of them, a couple of winter's ago, after an office Christmas thing. They were walking back to the car, but the ground was covered in melted snow, not good for her black heels. Mad had insisted on carrying her to his S.U.V. She resisted but let him pick her up. Out of nowhere, Danny appeared, camera in hand and blinded them with the flash. He gave her the photo a few days later for New Years, with a short note: _'a night to remember?'_

She was slightly embarrassed that Peyton had seen it without knowing the full story.

The ME pulled her head back to Stella, "I'm glad it worked out, speaking of, is Mac around?"

"No, he's out with Danny, sorry."

"Ok then, I'm off. But when he comes back, could you do me a favour? Could you tell him that dinner is at my place, 8 o'clock. My battery ran out, I can't call him." Peyton looked uncomfortable involving her so much in their relationship. She wasn't sure how she felt about it. Mac and Peyton weren't really any of her business, but Mac was.

"Sure, I'll tell him as soon as he comes back" she smiled.

Peyton turned to leave but stopped and looked back at her. "Stella, while were alone, I wanted to thank you."

She was confused, "For what?"

"For being there for him. For being his partner and his friend. He wouldn't be who he is now if it weren't for you."

Stella opened her mouth but didn't know what to say and Peyton took the opportunity to leave.

She had never thought of it like that. If anything, if went both ways. She stood up and picked up the picture on her filing cabinet. They weren't look at the camera, and she realised they hardly ever do. As if each other's faces are far more interesting that the gadget that will capture that moment forever. She saw his arms around her and remembered how it made her feel weightless. More significantly, she remembered what happened once they got inside the car.

"Thanks for saving my shoes" she had joked.

He tucked a strand of hair behind her eyes and smiled, "Like I wouldn't do anything for you."


	5. Chapter 5

She was stretched out on her couch, not wanting to do anything except stare at the bright screen in front of her. She was that in between tired, not tired enough to go to bed, but not awake enough to move. She tried not to think about him. With her. Mac and Peyton. She was happy for him, that he was happy, but… There was always a but; she just wasn't sure what it was.

He was positive that if he was blindfolded, spun around and let loose in the middle of Manhattan, he would be able to find his way to Stella. It was gut instinct. It was some magnetic force that pulled him to her. Something that made him feel her a mile away. Something that made him sure she was kept close. She was first on his speed dial, and who people would call Just In Case.

The knock surprised her; the only person she would expect at that hour had plans. She told herself she was thinking about work, when in fact the only part of work she was thinking about had nothing to do with the lab.

She walked to the door cautiously. It could be another Frankie, it could be anybody. She flung the door wide open when she saw who it was.

"Mac? What are you doing here?" She said in disbelief. He wasn't supposed to be here, he was supposed to be having dinner.

The man in front of her chuckled despite looking tired.

"Well, I Can leave. If you want me to." She grabbed his arm because at that moment she couldn't stand the thought of him walking away.

"No. I meant…what about your plans?"

"I just left the lab, so I told her I'd have to cancel and see her tomorrow. I bought some food. Have you eaten?" He seemed apologetic. A peace offering for the wrong woman. She thought of the salad she'd made for herself, half of which she'd thrown away.

"No."

He smiled and she couldn't help herself from doing the same.

"Good, because I come with Thai" he held out the plastic bag. She grinned and took it.

She'd held on a bit too long, not that he minded. He didn't tell her that Peyton had offered to reheat the dinner, and also suggested he come over for dessert. When he said he was tired, he pretended he didn't hear the disappointment in her voice.

He watched her eat and wished he could take her out to dinner every night. Just because.

"So, how come you're here?" she smiled between bites.

He shrugged, "I didn't feel like going home." He hadn't felt like going anywhere except there.

The day she came back from the hospital after Frankie's attack, she cleaned up a bit, sat on her bed and realised she couldn't do it. She went to the only place she knew how to get to. By the time he opened his door, she was crying.

What kind of person, she asked, would take a son away from his mother?

"What kind of person would try to take you away from me?" He countered.

It took her a few days to realise that the statue had been taken from her apartment. She didn't need to ask who had done it.

She didn't ask him to stay, but it was in the air. And even if it wasn't, he wanted to. He didn't want to leave her alone, even now when it was all over.

She had fallen asleep on the couch, on his shoulder. As he lifted her, he remembered the picture Danny had given him. The same one she had in her office. But his was in his bedroom, in his bedside drawer. If he was ever to forget what his best friend felt like, he could find a way to remember.

After putting her to bed and returning to the living room, he noticed how the stars seemed to spell out her name. He remembered way back, when they used to spell out Claire's.


	6. Chapter 6

He watched her in the interrogation room. He watched her get angry and her watched Hawkes go in and calm her down He wished it could be him. He thought back to the times when he had lied for her to Internal Affairs and wondered if, in protecting her, he was really protecting himself.

"There was no lead yesterday, was there?"

He turned around and saw Peyton. He shook his head and wondered what there was to say.

"I'm glad Stella's okay." She said finally, as if taking pity on him. His gaze met hers as he opened his mouth to form a question.

She beat him to it. "Sid. He can't keep a secret from those he trusts." The rest of her words stayed in her throat, but he could see them clearly through her eyes. _But you can._

There are certain people you can't hide from. You can lie for a while, and keep a few secrets. But they can read you like a book, and know how to make you turn the page.

He remembered the first fight he had with Stella. He had taken her off a case and wouldn't tell her why. He couldn't remember the details: something about an orphan and a foster parent.

For a week she wouldn't say one word to him, although it felt like a year.

In the end, he gave in and told her, without any obligation to do so. His strong, ex-marine, CSI supervisor persona couldn't handle the silence of a CSI.

She nodded her head slowly as he told her why he took her off the case. Before he left the room, she grabbed his arm and gave him one of those smiles that took his breath away. "Thanks."

"Is this about last night? Because this line of work take time. Plans take second place."

She sighed, "I know what your job is like. I have a similar one, remember? But it's not about the work. It's about everything else, and it's about her." She pointed to the interrogation room where Hawkes had taken over.

"Stella?" He tried to tell himself that he didn't know what she was talking about.

"I'm not jealous. I know she's your best friend, mac. But she also the only one who can make you hold your breath or spill your secrets. She's who you leave work for. You're partners, but she's still my biggest competition. And I'm truly sorry, but I don't think I can win."

He believed her, she wasn't jealous. She was truthful, and logical. Why spend time on something that won't return the favour. Peyton was more like him than she realised. Maybe, in other circumstances, they would've been a perfect match.

Maybe everyone was part of a puzzle, and you spend your life finding the other half. After Claire died, his puzzle changed, but Peyton still didn't fit.

Danny walked up to them, but remained unnoticed until he spoke, "Mac, you're gonna wanna see this."

Peyton smiled and kissed his cheek, "I'll see you around."

She waved to Danny and headed off towards the elevators.

Danny looked from him to her, "I didn't interrupt anything. Did I?"

He watched the doors shut and the blinking arrow turn off.

"No. It was already over."


	7. Chapter 7

Mac wasn't a fan of denial. He met people up to their throats in it every day. People trying to escape the quicksand they had made for themselves.

Unfortunately, he couldn't really talk. After all, he was an ezpert at pretending things didn't exist. Like that he didn't see Peyton's goodbye coming from a mile away. Like that everything she had said was completely true. There was no denying that Mac spent way too much time in his office, but no one knew that he did that because that was where he felt the biggest connection with her.

Stella shook her head in disbelief. Why she was watching some primetime forensic show was beyond her. She could count about 5 professional mistakes every 10 minutes. But still, it was either that or the news. And if she was going to hear about crime and tragedy, she'd rather it wasn't true.

As one of the main detectives hooked up with the lab tech she thought of Mac. As a crime scene investigator, you sometimes have to rely on the Aha! moment to solve a case. You have to wait for the light bulb to turn on before you take the next step. Only this time, the case was her life, and the step was her best friend. And if she tripped everything she ever loved would crash and burn.

The TV flickered in front of her and she noticed that Lab Tech was having second thoughts, "What if…."

Detective put his hands on her shoulder and stooped down to look her straight in the eye, in a way that sort of reminded her of her partner. "What if we don't try this and miss out on the love of our life?" Kiss.

Only Stella didn't see it, she slammed the door and ran out to her car in her tracksuit bottoms and NYPD t-shirt.

He dialed the first three numbers, then quickly pressed the cancel button on his phone. Stella, was his significant other, he realised. It didn't matter that they weren't married, neither were they dating. She was his significant other. The person who made him laugh and cry, the person who could make him spill his guts, the only person he cared about more than his job.

That was why he drove to her place late that night, why he knocked hastily on her door, why he didn't care what she was doing it as long as she opened it. That was why when she finally did; he kissed her before she had a chance to ask him what he was doing there. And that was why when he woke up on his couch and realised it was all a dream, he found he was disappointed. He sat up and held his head in his hands. The possibility was haunting him, but for once, his marine courage was failing him.

The moment she turned on the engine, she prayed for traffic. She had no idea what she was doing. And she didn't even know if he would be there. But of course, New York City chose that particular night to empty out. And every green light seemed to wait for her. Had she believed in signs, she would've thought that the city was encouraging her. She fiddled with the tuner button, but every radio station was playing some sort of love song, and after deciding she couldn't handle that, she turned it off. The sounds of the city offered little reassurance. And The NYPD building seemed quite daunting. It was now or never. 'What if we don't try this and miss out on the love of our life?' It was definitely not never.

"I hoped I'd find you here." The voice from his dream said. He looked up and saw her, with her bright grin standing in front of him. She looked like she had jumped out of bed to come here. But he really didn't care; a messy Stella was still more beautiful than anyone he'd ever seen.

He chuckled, "Hoped? You know me, where else would I be?"

"With Peyton." Her name hung in the air heavily, and Stella seemed to notice that it shouldn't have been mentioned.

He remembered she didn't know, that he had resisted the urge to tell her as soon as it happened. "Peyton and I are… aren't…" He was sure he saw a little twinkle in her eye, but she quickly disguised it with her sympathetic face.

"Oh."

"I was going to call you", he offered, not sure how it would help.

They weren't…. she couldn't describe how she felt. At first a rush of relief and happiness overwhelmed her, but she remembered that this was her best friend. She always promised herself that she wouldn't be the jealous unloved one. Stella Bonasera doesn't break promises.

"I'm here because I wanted- I want to talk to you." She said, slightly lost for words. She had never done this before. He shifted over and gestured for her to sit down next to him. This helped. Anything he did right then would've probably helped.

"That's why I was going to call you." He smiled, and she laughed. Then sat up a little straighter and turned to look him straight in the eye.

"I'm not sure how to say this, so I just will and then we can make sense of it. OK?" she waited for him to nod, "Mac, I, I don't want to live my life in a what if."

He stared at her for a second, perfect that non-emotional face he often wore. She wished she knew what he was thinking, though she usually did, tonight was different. She opened her mouth to continue, when he took her hand in his.

"Stella, we've been partners for 11 years, and friends for most of that time. The question stopped being what if a long time ago. It's a matter of when."

She held her breath. She was standing on the edge of the world. And she jumped.

With a shy smile, she looked at him and squeezed his hand, "What about right now?"

He looked at her for a second, going through every mental picture of her that he had and decided that this was his favourite. He didn't think he'd felt like this since he said I do to Claire. And he'd never expected to again. And he knew for certain that this was why everything else happened in his life. Evereything was just a prequel to right now.

"Right now works for me."

She stood by the elevators staring at them, as they hugged. Of course they hugged, you don't just pash your best friend of 11 eleven years. She had told him to thruth though. She wasn't jealous, she was happy for him. And her. They deserved to be happy, and now they finally were. She had come up to leave a note on his desk. But she hadn't been thinking, it wasn't even 10 pm yet; of course he'd still be in his office. She had asked for a transfer today. Because it was the right thing to do. They had their family, and now they had each other. And she was just that family friend who had stayed too long.

"Thank God for glass offices, eh?" an elderly man appeared beside her. He was dressed in dark green overall, with a nametag that said George and she concluded that he was the after-hours cleaner. She laughed politely at his comment.

"You a colleague of theirs?" He asked nodding towards the couple, still seated on the couch.

She considered this for a second, "I used to be."

"Oh."George seemed slightly disappointed; he was looking forward to saraing some office gossip. "Long overdue, though, don't you think?"

She glanced over at them then at the note she held in her hand. _Mac, I'm leaving next week. I'll see you before then but I couldn't tell you in person. I'm sorry. Good luck. I'm glad you're happy. Both of you. –Peyton._

"It was only a matter of when." She smiled a little sadly at the short man. "Listen, could you please give this note to him. I'd like him to get it tonight."

"Sure thing M'am." George smiled and place dthe note in his front pocket. Like on cue, the elevator door opened and she stepped inside, looking back long enough to see his lips touch hers.


End file.
